Anathema
by Nia-Lovestruck
Summary: Cursed for committing a devilish crime, a man, with the help of a new acquaintance, must embark on a journey against time and his inner self. But as time runs out and new dangers arise, a new emotion he never thought to have existed, challenges his existence. AU Yaoi ByaxIchi
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own bleach or its characters._

Have not written in a long time, and decided to get back into writing. This is simply to better myself as a writer and well, for my own personal enjoyment.

_Authors note-_ This story will be alternating between Ichigo and Byakuya's POV.

I changed a small detail for one of the characters, that being Ichigo's mother, small change, but must be noted anyways. Ichigo's mother, as you will see further in this chapter, has orange hair.

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Anathema

Chapter One

"Ahh!"

"Ichigo, please pass me some more of the yarrow."

Ichigo Kurosaki stood frozen, mesmerized, his eyes refusing to budge free of the large wound set out before him. It was now relatively less frightening then had been a few minutes before. The blood had been skillfully wiped clean off its surface and the previous inflammation had gone down considerably on account to the various herbal remedies his mother had managed to rub onto it with the utmost of delicate ease.

"Ahhh!"

Another painful cry reigned free of the poor man whose legs were now crossed like a contortionists' in pitiful attempts at ridding himself free of such unwanted agony. His hands clawed into his sobbing wife's bare flesh as she held on tightly onto his own.

"Ichigo," his mother called out once more. Had it not been for the incessant yells and rotund sobbing surrounding the place, it'd be as though she were leisurely calling him for dinner.

"R-right," Ichigo muttered, finally prying his feet from his previous fixed position and rushing towards the small table a few feet away from him.

He grabbed onto a small pot containing the mashed yarrow and stumbled back towards his mother, handing her the small container before managing to trip on his own feet and almost tumbling head first into the patient. His mother's arm pulled him back, her vision never failing to leave the pained being at hand.

"Sorry…" he said softly, his head hanging down towards the floor at the mishap his clumsiness had almost caused.

His eyes sorely drifted towards his mother whose hands worked in a hasty yet proficient manner, layering the wound in the meshed herbs. Her facial features remained cool and collected, holding an almost ambrosial feel that could manage to bring anyone at ease.

It was beyond him how his mother could be such a skillful, relaxed and gentle being even in the most stressful of situations as he was left feeling as nothing more than a dolt. Of course she would usually set out to comfort him in these times of self doubting, but as he watched his mothers composed demeanor with the smile that never failed to leave her lips continue to, with such fragile delicacy, treat the wounded despite the stress otherwise thrown at her, his inadequacies where plastered full on.

"Son,"

Ichigo snapped out of his inner musings and stared over at his mother who smiled pleasantly back at him. He noticed the small bead of sweat emitting from her forehead.

"Help me lift him, please."

Ichigo nodded quickly. Any chance at helping, even if they were failed attempts, would be taken head on by him.

His hands dug carefully beneath the injured man, whose injury stretched from his lower abdomen towards his chest, and slowly lifted. As he did, his mother quickly placed out a wide bandage behind the male's back and begun to slowly circle his abdomen in the thin linen. Upon fully doing so, she motioned Ichigo to lower the man once more.

He took several steps back, as the once screaming man, now laid perfectly still. His face still cringed slightly, but not nearly to the extent it had been before.

This was a good sign, Ichigo knew.

"Shikoku," his mother spoke tenderly to the patient, her voice breaking through the prior mist of pain that still hovered over the small area. "It'll take some time for your wounds to heal properly. Until then, I would like you to try and do the least amount of physical activity possible."

The man seemed to scrunch his face at the request.

"Mirna," She went on, this time directed at the woman standing beside the man, face still drenched in the tears that had only a few seconds been freefalling like a waterfall. "You make sure of this."

The woman nodded, her appreciation fully casted as her lips finally managed to break into a smile.

"Make sure he gets plenty of liquids. In his condition, he needs all he can get."

Ichigo's eyes remained glued on his mother, his admiration for her nothing but evident.

"I'll be back to check up on him."

"Thank you Masaki," The woman finally spoke, her voice still groggy and weak. "We don't know what we would've done without you."

Ichigo felt pride well up in him.

Masaki smiled and shook her head softly. "I'm always of service. Take care of him."

The female provided a simple nod of her head before leveling her face with her husband's whose eyes were still sealed shut and kissing the top of his forehead.

"Come on Ichigo, help me pick up."

Ichigo nodded his head instantly, trying to hide the enthusiasm he usually felt whenever his mother would ask of his assistance and quickly set out to work.

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After fully packing their utensils and herbal medicines, the Kurosaki's made their way out of the small homestead by the river.

Their walk was a silent one. The silence disrupted only by the few crumbled leaves that managed to find their way beneath their feet as they made their way by.

Ichigo's eyes stared off at the distance. The sun had begun taken on a slight orange hue, the color beautifully meshing with the soft blue of the sky. He always liked this time of the day. It somehow calmed him, brought him a new sense of relaxation and peace he'd otherwise find difficult to achieve.

His eyes lowered back down and flitted towards his mother who was now a few steps ahead of him. Her orange hair swept sideways as the wind played a mellow game with the long tresses that reached past her shoulders.

Ichigo smiled. He was glad he acquired at least that much from her.

He led his hand up towards the top of his head and ruffled the crimson hair beneath his fingertips roughly. His lips creased visibly and he shook his head firmly.

"Hey mom," he called out, his feet already picking up speed to catch up with his mother who now stood still, awaiting his approach.

"Yeah?" she answered, brows scrunching as she watched the newly distraught appearance that had taken hold of her son's face. "What's the matter?"

Ichigo hesitated slightly, hoping to pry his eyes away from his mother, but being unable to as the tender chocolate eyes remained fix on his own.

"D-do you think…"

"Do I think…?"

"Do you think I'll ever be as good of a healer as you…?"

Ichigo wished he hadn't spoken. He felt ashamed. It was a stupid question. He knew he'd never match up to his mother when it came to her healing abilities, heck, he knew he'd never match up to her in anything. He should've resolved to be a klutz for the remainder of his life, but he was not content with that solution. He wanted to be better. He wanted to be special, to do something that would gain him respect, admiration, anything.

It was bad enough he wasn't a great healer. He wasn't even an average one. He'd never fully tried to actually heal anyone. His skills had been broken down into fetching supplies for his mother's use, and even that he usually managed to fail at. Even so, this was the only things he could even remotely manage, as his hunting skills were nonexistent, something he very much resented.

Masaki's eyes softened more than they had been previously.

She laid the basket containing what was left of the herbs down onto the ground, and led her hand towards her son's cheek, gripping it tightly.

"What a silly question," she said softly, her voice like honey.

Ichigo stared away from her, finding a fixed spot beside her feet. That had not been the response he had awaited. But it was the correct response.

He forced a smile to grace his lips, the sad sham of a smile obvious to anyone with even the slightest of cognitive skill.

"Yea…" He begun dryly, before his eyes widened fully as his head was shaken roughly to one side. "Wh-"

"You'll be a better one." Masaki said intently. Her eyes narrowed, denoting her seriousness. "Don't you dare think otherwise."

Ichigo couldn't find what to do and as such remained transfixed on his mother's suddenly flared eyes.

"I _know_ you will."

Ichigo's lips curled minutely. His eyes, however, still fully showcased his bothered innards.

Though every inch of him wanted to believe in her words and believe there to be some truth in them, he was unable to. And so he felt anger. It angered him that she wouldn't admit to it. He knew she knew he was a hopeless case. Why couldn't she see it? Everyone else already had. His father realized his lack in skill with hunting in as little as one session. His grandfather's failed attempts at teaching him blacksmithing ended in a person's missing finger. Any attempt at finding employment was failed nonetheless, as he was seen as nothing more than a walking omen. He was now eighteen and had nothing under his belt.

In anyone's eyes, he was nothing but a mere child. In his own, he was less.

But his mother, she refused to acknowledge his incompetence. Though he, as well as everyone else had fully recognized it long before.

"A diamond in the rough." His mother smiled once more. Her hands now stroked the male's unruly locks as she'd done so since he was a mere child as a way of easing him. It never failed to work. Even now, Ichigo felt strangely relaxed and as such, remained frozen, relishing the feeling of comfort.

Ichigo shook out of his trance when a loud bark echoed from afar. The male pulled back from his mother who as opposed to being shaken up as he was, shook her head, heaving a large sigh.

The barks became louder as the owner neared and Ichigo's lips broke into a hearty grin.

"Shiro!" he called out as a large white retriever sped towards him with heated ferocity. In a matter of seconds the male was ambushed by the oversized pet, as the dog pounced atop him in a welcoming fit. Ichigo stumbled backwards from the force, unexpectedly falling atop the basket his mother had previously been carrying.

"Ack! Shiro!" he chuckled jovially as his face was licked thoroughly with the usual greeting he had come to expect from his over-joyous companion.

Barks followed his callings that fell on deaf ears as the dog continued to playfully lick his skin.

"Oh, Shiro," Masaki sighed, her head shaking all the while at the scene set out before her.

Upon hearing her, Ichigo's eyes widened in realization over what had happened and in less than a second managed to push the rampaging dog away from him.

"Ah crud…ma!" he exclaimed apologetically while staring as his hind end, now covered in large amount of white dustings and leaves. "I'm sorry! I'll pick it up, I'll get it, I'll get it!" he began panicking once he noticed all the ingredients and herbal ingredients were now tossed messily on the ground, some still stuck to his derriere.

"Sweetie, you know that will no longer do." Masaki knelt down beside her son, wiping off some of the ingredients that had managed to stick onto his clothing.

Ichigo slapped his palm against his forehead, refusing to see how he could have managed to ruin something else in such a minimal amount of time.

"I'm so sorry…" he mumbled silently, looking out onto the soil-soaked basket.

"It'll be okay." She reassured, providing soft pats to his back. "I can pick some more up tomorrow. Now come on," gripping onto her son's elbow, she began lifting herself and dragging him alongside her. "We've gotta get home. Dinner won't make itself, you know."

"Shiro, you too," She called to the prancing retriever who was still happily lapping at her son's ankle, the simple action causing her to break into a small chuckle. "Let's go."

Ichigo rose to his feet in compliance, allowing himself to be pulled by his mother. His eyes, however, remained glued on the tossed and trampled basket lying sprawled on the ground.

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"Wooooh! Ichigo!"

Ichigo smacked his head into the wooded kitchen table, groaning audibly at the sound of the barbarous voice that reverberated into the kitchen, the voice he knew to belong to only one specific person he was in the least of moods to be around.

"Oi Ichigo! Guess what I caught while you were here baking pies!" A rough voice rung about once more, this time its source directly in front of the orangette whose head was still digging its way into the table attempting to somehow meld with it.

"A brain?" mumbled Ichigo, his voice distorted by the table now permanently glued to his face.

"Aha! Lookie here!"

Hearing a loud thud, followed by a small vibration following the clang, Ichigo stared up from the table, eyes widening at what was before him. A large coating of brown fur lay propped atop it. His eyes slowly drew across the surface meeting a small snout, its appearance still wet on account of the dew-like substance decorating its surface and eyes slit perfectly shut. Without a further second, Ichigo sprang from his seat, knocking the chair along with him and falling roughly on his rump, while shrieking loudly.

"What i- "

"A deer, Captain jitters!"

"Renji," Masaki called from her spot at the kitchen stove. The male understood quickly and chuckled nervously before mumbling what must have been an apology, neither of which Ichigo took into consideration.

Ichigo wiped at his trousers as he made to stand from the floor, while glaring back at the red-head whose crimson tresses flared up at odd angles before falling back into a messy braid behind his neck. Renji continued grinning triumphantly back at him, his hand sprawled atop the dead animal in a victorious proclamation.

"See that!" Renji exclaimed, savagely smacking his hand onto the deers' stomach. "That lil sucker thought he could put up a fight against me! But I wasn't havin' it!"

Ichigo cringed and bit back the urge to cover his mouth in angry fit of gags. For if he did, he knew he'd never live it down.

"That's uh…great…" he lied, while swallowing down the lump that had built up in his throat. Even that seemed to be more appetizing than what lay thrown before him. He cursed himself once again for his decrepitude. As hunting was not his forte, neither was actually ingesting meat or any previously living creature, as the mere thought made his insides crumble to pieces in repugnance.

"Hell yeah it's great! Lemme tell ya how it happened," Renji continued enthusiastically.

Ichigo exhaled in exasperation.

Hunting seemed to be the only thing that brought his cousin this much joy, well, him or any other men in the family. As for him, the thought of injuring any living creature gave him its fair share of nightmares. The first and final time he had made an attempt at it he'd been left a whimpering mess before a rabbit who had been as good as dead anyway.

"…so I had him there and the little sucker actually thought he could get away! So I circled him and with my trusty bow took a shot right at the lit- ACK!"

"Silence boy." A hearty man pushed a tightly coiled into the bragging red-heads skull with enough force to leave the male whining quietly. "Men don't brag."

"Ackk..d-dad…"

Ichigo scoffed at the thought of Renji ever being considered a man, though the thought brought him more unease than comfort, seeing as how he felt he was far less than him.

"Ichigo," The man greeted.

His appearance closely matched that of the stammering red-head, minus the difference in body structure; his body holding onto much more bulk than the younger male. They did, however, both have quite the masculine drive and sharp edgings when it came to their facial features, and the muscles to back it up. Even if their outer appearance may have actually held any dissimilarity, their innards may as well have belonged to the same person, as they were per say two peas in a pod.

As much as he tried to camouflage it, Ichigo could never deny the overwhelming jealousy he felt for the pair.

"Uncle." Ichigo bowed his head slightly. "Where's dad?" he asked, finally noticing his father had yet to make an appearance.

"Ah, still loading off some of the game."

Ichigo nodded in understanding before lowering himself back towards the fallen chair and situating it back to its prior position beside the kitchen table.

"So how'd _your_ day go Ichi?" Renji finally asked as he propped himself down onto another available seat, though his disinterest didn't fail from showing through.

Ichigo bit the inner of his lips, not wishing to remember what his clumsiness had managed to cost once again. Though his mother had failed to make much of a fuss about the ruining for her medical supplies, he knew just how important they'd been and how much of a nuisance finding the correct herbs were, especially considering the limited amount of time she actually had to collect.

"Lemme guess, ya caused another life?" the male said jokingly and was met with a sharp whack to the head. "Ah! What the hell!"

"Renji!" his father reprimanded sternly, visibly fuming over his sons thoughtless words.

"Dammit Pa I was only kiddin!"

Ichigo's head remained lowered, the statement having clearly stricken a cord in him.

"Ichigo?" Masaki now looked over at her son, a new worry seeping its way into her voice. "son?"

Ichigo ignored his mother's callings and made his way out of the kitchen, providing not as much as a side glance.

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Ichigo stalked up to his father who had completed unloading a few sacks from his horse's back, which he rightfully assumed had been the other winnings of the day's hunt. There wasn't much of a surprise when it came to the actual size of the load, considering just how much of a skilled hunter his father was.

Ichigo was left a multitude of times wondering how exactly he could have managed to be his son, though all in all he was usually left wondering how he was related to any of the individuals in his family. Were it not for the hair sitting atop his head, he would be sure he was found drifting down a lake in a log at infantry. How could he be the product of a man whose strength and skill were revered, admired? He at times found himself wondering if perhaps the stork may have made a mistake when they placed him in the hands of his parents. He knew someone like Renji would be much better suited.

Ichigo stood silently as his father wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, the sweat falling in loads, before his father finally caught onto him.

"Ah my boy!" He greeted joyously, ruffling the teens untamed hair with brute force and a cheerful grin only someone with his high spirits would be able to provide after what was certainly a tough day. His short brown hair remained slicked to his forehead, presumably wet from the amount of sweat exuding his skin. "What's with the face son?"

Ichigo watched his feet tousle a small rock on the ground, before allowing his face to meet his fathers. His face was still covered with a considerable amount of dirt and grime from the day's work, that alongside the small amount of facial hair that had now taken permanent residence, made his face appear much older than usual.

"I was just..." Ichigo began hesitantly, his hands not finding what to do and instead remained scratching at his legs aimlessly.

"Yeah?" The man's eyes caught onto the nervous fidgeting that was a habitual occurrence when ever his son felt truly piqued over something. "What's bothering you?"

"I just…I was-"

Before being able to fully speak, Ichigo shot erect as his ears caught onto the boisterous barking that began to resonate around him. His head shot behind him, his father following suit, both males narrowing their eyes in attempts to catch a glimpse of what was heading their way.

"Is that…?"

"Shiro!" Ichigo called out to the canine who ran full-speed towards him, this time unusually rowdier than usual. "Come 'ere boy!"

Ichigo's brows folded inwardly as he watched his dog make a sudden halt, but remaining with his incessant barks.

"What do you thinks got 'em?"

Ichigo heard his father ask, but his vision was still out onto the squirming dog who continued to call out to him in what seemed like panic.

"I'm not sure,"

"Well go find out boy!"

A rough smack was given to his back, making the orangette stumble forward, something he luckily recovered from.

"R-right!"

Before he knew it, his legs were already trampling heavily atop the grassy pastures, rapidly carrying him towards the disquieted animal that at seeing him, retreated back towards his apparently preordained destination and sped away.

"Wait! Shiro!" Ichigo called out in vain as the animal continued on its departure.

Ichigo noticed the dog shoot him various looks back as it continued to run ahead of him, as though reassuring itself that its master was surely behind him.

"Dammit Shiro!" Ichigo huffed loudly. His legs had begun to crumble beneath him due to the limited amount of physical activity actually ever provided to them.

His heart beat heavily against his chest and even then he found himself cursing bitterly at the thought that a mere run could have him so easily beat.

Ichigo halted in his tracks for a few seconds, still trying to catch his breath. Bent over his knees, the male took several shuddering breaths, before breaking into a fit of angry coughs.

Wiping his mouth free of the moisture that had accumulated on his face, he stared up to find himself closer to the woods edgings.

"Crap, crap, crap…" He mumbled to himself.

Shiro was nowhere in sight.

The sun's rays had begun diminishing quickly, and now only few broken sprits of sunlight managed to break through the foliage of the tall oaks.

The woods were not exactly his cup of tea when it came to anything, especially when the sun would be nowhere in the equation.

Much to his dismay, he found himself doubting and lowering his options, the only real option now being 'Go home.' Shiro was a smart dog, that he knew, and he would always manage to find his way back home, as such, his only real option _should_ be to return home.

Ichigo snapped out of his inner cowering in time to catch Shiro barking out to him once again.

"You've gotta be kidding me," he whispered quietly, his voice trembling slightly alongside it. "I'll kill him…I'll kill him…I'll kill him!" he begun cursing a large sum of obscenities under his breath, his prior moral halfway across the world. Even as such; his legs began once more on their previous pitter-patter, this time slower than before, and with a far greater amount of hesitation.

"Shiro!"

After a few seemingly aimless turns and swerves, Shiro's speed decreased before coming to a full stop, the canine's back facing the panting red-head.

Ichigo wiped his mouth one final time, licking his lips afterwards and having the taste of his own salty sweat invade his taste buds.

"What's going on with you?" he questioned as he deliberately edged his way towards the dog who refused to provide a single look back. Upon reaching him, he roughly petted the Labradors thin fur, and knelt beside him. His hands led up towards the dog's snout, grabbing its head between his hands while softly petting its ears.

"What's the matter boy?"

Shiro remained seemingly paralyzed, his gaze stuck on something beyond the male. Ichigo quirked a brow in concern before swiveling to meet behind him, and remaining equally paralyzed.

"What is..." he gasped lowly, his voice inaudible to any ears, as his eyes continued to somehow register what was sprawled a few yards in front of him.

Through the few clefts of sunlight that managed to seep through the overhead foliage the anatomy of a human body lay sprawled onto the ground. Perfectly exposed porcelain-like skin shone brightly in the midst of the quickly enveloping darkness, tainted only by an increasing mist of crimson that now cloaked the ground surrounding it.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to anyone who read the first chapter of my story. Many hugs to you!

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Chapter two

Ichigo inhaled sharply. His legs had begun to carry him, albeit apprehensively, towards what he was now sure was the body of a human male as his anatomy lay fully exposed.

His arms trembled noticeably, holding tightly onto a fallen branch he'd come across during his time of unease at the new discovery.

"Stay back Shiro," he hissed lowly at his dog who sniffed at the toppled body thoroughly, fully disobeying the orders given otherwise.

"Shiro!" he whispered once more, this time now directly in front of the form. He felt frightened, not only for the inexplicableness of the situation but for the scarlet fluid that enclosed much of the body and the thought that , though he tried to push back, continued to creep in the deepest reserves of him mind; the only sensible thought in a situation like this.

Even so, Ichigo found himself forcing his eyes screwed shut as they continued to fully betray him and shamelessly ogled the bare-skinned figure that lay supine, his hind side fully exposed to the orangette.

Lengthy raven tresses messily draped the person's face, disallowing for any proper view of the face or attempt at recognition. From what was visible, he could distinctively make out few protruding bruises; a dark shading of purple. The skin seemed somewhat tarnished and soiled in grime throughout a vast majority of it, even so, the few patches free of any discoloration shone brightly with a cotton-like paleness. But what continued to stand out above all else was the encompassing deep velvet liquid spreading across the male's abdomen, towards his lower hip bone and down his legs.

Using the branch still tightly coiled inside his hands, Ichigo pressed the sharply pointed utensil at the man's lower back, poking it gently a few times.

When he did not receive any visible response, he repeated the process, this time probing the body with a greater amount of force.

" Is he…"

Another rough poke had the male stumbling backwards in surprise, when he heard a small grunt escape what he was sure was the victim's mouth.

"He's alive!" Ichigo exclaimed mostly to himself, feeling an inexplicable amount of joy and relief at the discovery.

Quickly falling to his knees, the male completed the bit of distance between him and the collapsed figure, his hands hovering over the form before he froze stiff.

"W-wait….what am I supposed to do?" he shrieked, finally coming to terms with the position he was currently in.

His head flung in varies directions around him, as though an answer would be planted plainly before him, but having no such luck.

"No no no no no no,"

His hands began to feel inexplicably clammy, and it did not help that his legs where now quivering like a wet feline's.

"Nnn…"

Ichigo blinked at the sound and once more fell back on his rump.

The figure before him lolled idly to its side and now lay perfectly prone. The hair that had at one point veiled the facial features now fell flat onto the ground finally uncloaking his face. Thin, pale lips, now drenched in a crimson liquid, contorted in odd forms, clearly due to the pain that may have been coursing through the being at the moment. The slender nose crinkled alongside it.

This man, he noticed, couldn't be much older than he. He looked to be in his mid twenties if even that.

"Hnnn," the male groaned audibly.

"A-are you okay?" Ichigo found himself asking stupidly. Of course he was not okay, he mentally scolded himself.

The teen almost croaked when as a response, the man's eyes slit open diminutively.

Perfect emerald-like irises, the color closely resembling that of crystalline new metal, glowed magnificently in the murky obscuring darkening of the woods. The breathtaking orbs met him and he found himself holding his breath in. Eyes like those, he had not yet come across. He cursed himself, knowing this was not the time to fall into a trance of admiration.

"W-wait please…I'll get you some help." Ichigo said, beginning to raise himself up off the ground.

The person provided no response; instead he remained deafeningly silent for few century-like seconds before his hands began to desperately claw at the soil.

"Please don't try to move!"

Ichigo stared around him in desperation as he helplessly weighed his options, which at that moment weren't many.

He knew he was in desperate need of assistance as there was no possible way he could manage dealing with the issue at hand on his own. But assistance seemed far from the equation. He couldn't run off in search for help and simply leave the man. If worst came to worst, he'd instead find a lifeless carcass. But staying back seemed like less of an option being that his abilities could not be of much assistance.

"Shiro!"

The rowdy dog rushed towards him, tail wagging as though awaiting instruction.

Ichigo rubbed the animal's ears, his face lining up directly with him, desperation in his eyes.

"Shiro, you gotta go get help boy,"

He realized this could be his only option. He desperately hoped it would be of use.

"Dad Shiro, Go get dad!"

As though sensing its master's desperation, Shiro ran off in a flash, his traces erased almost instantly upon departing.

_Good boy…_ The male thought hopeful, before his attention once more drifted to the groaning male beside him whose feeble attempts at getting up now had him laying in the fetal position.

"Oh god, please stop moving," he urged, knowing to quite an extent that if the blood was any indication of the wound, any unnecessary movement would serve as the man's unhinging.

The individual continued on his weak movements, fully disregarding Ichigo's pleads.

Ichigo had never felt so helpless. None of the outings with his mother had prepared him for this. He found himself dazed, and confused over what he needed to do and the man's hardheadedness failed to help the situation.

Ichigo daringly pulled closer to the man and gripped him tightly by the elbows, attempting to somehow disallow him of making any movements and instead found himself toppling backwards as the man swatted his arm violent, almost managing to scratch his face off.

"…hell…" the orange-head murmured, his voice now showcasing the anger that had managed to seep in. "I'm trying to help you! If you keep moving like this your wounds will only get worst!"

Ichigo's brows folded inwardly when he heard a throaty scoff escape the man's mouth, as once more the searing eyes met his own, this time narrowed drastically.

A few seconds after the man had sufficiently glared the teen down, he provided a weary glance to his far side. Ichigo followed suit.

"What…"

Slowly rising from the floor, Ichigo took few steps in the direction of the cold gray stare, finding a long trail of blood-soaked footsteps. Looking back at the male, almost for confirmation, Ichigo noticed his eyes remained fixed on one particular spot by a nearing willow.

He picked up his pace, following the footprints that he had failed to notice earlier, before coming to a staggering halt.

"Holy bloody hell…" he breathed in shock.

Laid out before him was the dead carcass of a wolf. The creature lay toppled in a strange contorted position, and he could make out various scratches and what seemed like deeply embedded bite marks surrounding its neck and various others spots lining the wolf's torso and legs.

"Is…is this…what…" he found himself mumbling to himself in absolute loss. His head quickly flung back towards the direction of the man, who, to his amazement, now stood hunched over one of the trees that had been next to him.

Ichigo watched his spine unwind, as the man began stretching his body backwards, before once more swiveling his head to meet him. His hair draped over his face, only allowing view of one eye and a partial inch of his lips.

"…what…" Ichigo voice again, hoping something would answer the question he was too confused to ask.

This time a response was provided, as vague as it could have been.

The man pulled his arm in towards his stomach and wiped at the substance roughly.

Ichigo watched his torso become smeared in the red liquid, but through the wiping he could make out the man's untainted skin beneath. From his standpoint, no wound was visible.

"That blood… It wasn't yours, was it?"

No response was provided. None was needed.

" A wolf…. But…how did you manage…"

Ichigo felt overly incredulous at the situation. There was no possible way in hell that man could have taken that thing down on his own. Yes, his built, from what he was able to see, wasn't at all on the frail side, on the contraire, he was rather toned and seemed to have a good amount of strength, but it was simply not plausible. Weapons, there were none in sight at the moment, and the bite marks surrounding the creature's body indicated none was used anyway. Bite marks. Those were the causes. He'd come across the remainders of animals before, and the cause was clear as daylight to him, even this one; a fight between fellow species.

This man, he couldn't have managed to cause this sort of damage, most certainly not in his state, and most certainly not without any sorts of weapons. It was inconceivable.

The teen couldn't help but look back at the individual, still clawing his way into the tree. He seemed exhausted, but there was something else off about him, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Ichigo's mind felt cluttered as it continued trying to somehow decipher what was before him. But there wasn't much. A naked man clearly disoriented, and a dismembered wolf.

Hearing a loud thud, surrounded by the crunching of leafs; Ichigo was once more pulled out of his mental stupor. This time looking over and realizing the man was again crumpled on the ground like a lifeless twig.

He charged towards the man, gripping him tightly by both arms and managing to flip him over on his back. Resting the individual's head atop his lap, Ichigo's eyes bulged as he once more remembered, and saw currently, the now quickly drying bits of blood surrounding the thin lips.

How ridiculous could it be? He _bit_ the animal to death?

He felt like having a good laugh at the thought, but he didn't, instead he quickly shook it out of his mind.

Shallow breathes escaped the man's lips in unstable patterns, causing Ichigo's worry to rouse even further.

Allowing his index and middle finger to glide down towards the man's neck, Ichigo felt the pulse had increased to abnormal rates.

"Help is coming…help is coming," He repeated, trying to comfort the man whom he was sure was already out like a bulb, and as such the comfort was provided more for himself.

Night seemed to speed up in its overtaking, as the last remaining bits of sunlight became obsolete and Ichigo found himself frightened to the core.

His head swirled with unwanted thoughts; if his family failed to arrive, if Shiro had truly managed to carry his message, if this man died. Thoughts he desperately tried to push back.

He didn't know how he had waited, but as though in heed of his inner begging's, a voice broke through the silence.

"Ichigo!"

Ichigo's ears perked, an overwhelming build up of relief and almost disbelief upon hearing his name.

"Dad?" He yelled out loudy.

The footsteps became closer and for once since encountering the strange being, he allowed himself to take a deep breath.

oooooooooo

"Is he dead now mommy?" a girl about four feet tall, questioned curiously as she hung over the unconscious body of the recently found man.

Ichigo continued to bite down on his thumb, his eyes never failing to leave the man's face.

"No sweetheart, he's only resting." Masaki assured her. She rung the small towel, now fully cleansed of the velvet liquid previously adhering to it, and hung it atop the drawer beside the small bed in the direct center of the room.

After arriving home with the unconscious man, his mother had quickly set out to work. Cleansing the soiled skin, which as Ichigo had expected, was free of any life-threatening wounds besides the small brusings and scratches decorating its surface.

Dehydration and exhaustion. That's what she had said. And Ichigo had become aware of it as the first time his mother neared a small vase of water up to the man's lips, he had almost succeeded in fully swallowing the porcelain alongside it. As such, most of his time had been spent downing in as much water as his body could possibly allow.

He hadn't spoken much. Actually, he had not spoken at all. Every question pertaining to his identity and what had happened had gone unanswered as his first priority and only priority had been to gorge on anything that had been put in his sight; hunger being another of what had apparently caused his collapse.

During that time, his interaction was minimal; the only interaction actually provided being when the bewildered eyes had the chance to meet Ichigo's own, as they appeared to refuse to look elsewhere. In them, he was unsure if what he saw was gratitude or simply hunger. Maybe both. At least he hoped. Something was better than nothing, and nothing was what he'd seen in them the first time he'd laid eyes on them.

After having his body fully cleansed, this being done so after he had conked out on the bed, Ichigo had assisted his mother in clothing him in some of his own apparel. A tunic-like black top, and linen knee-length beige pants.

That had been quite the shameful experience, being that Ichigo's eyes again refused to budge free from the man's body.

"Come on Yuzu, let's go get you to bed. Ichigo, do you mind looking after him for a while,"

The request was unnecessary as Ichigo was already fully intent on doing so.

His mother scurried off, tugging the small girl alongside her.

"Goodnight Ichi-ni," she sweetly called back at him, while rubbing her drowsy eyes and running the other hand along her short light brown tresses.

"Night," he smiled as he watched both forms depart.

He sighed softly, leaning his elbow on the seats armrests and resting his head atop his palm and began recalling the day's events.

Trying to explain everything to his family was something he had pushed out of the equation. Not even he understood what had happened, and so he couldn't expect anyone else to. He decided to keep things to himself, at least until everything was cleared up. The task of doing so however, only made him look like much more of a dunce as he failed to answer any of the questions tossed his way, looking as useless as ever.

His father had simply sighed. His mother had not said a thing, and everyone else had looked on at him as they always did. A failed case.

Ichigo felt his eyes begin to weigh down on him like a pile of heavy bricks. The day's events had finally begun taken their toll on him. Even so, his eyes remained fixed on the enigmatic ones before him that were now dutifully shut, as they slowly inched closed.

As they did so, the only things in mind were the hopes that the next day would bring about some sort of answers for the still-puzzling occurrence.


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter is extremely vague, but trust me when I say I have my reasons.

Quick note by the way, my chapter's lengths will be limited to 2,000 or 3,000 words, mostly because i'd rather write a short chapter and update regularly, than write an excessively longer chapter and update every two weeks. ^^;

Thanks again to the readers! Just for you I will make my Byakuya and Ichigo plushies perform delicious yaoi on each other. ;3

Chapter three

'_**Your own dangers will follow you, your own image of selfishness and greed. Recognize your wrongdoings, boy. See life for what it is, for what truly matters. Until then you will continue to be the monster you've always been.'**_

xxxxxxxxxx

_The sound of his quickened footsteps pounding mercilessly onto the dusty rocky terrain clouded his ears. His heart's rigid beatings hammered in his chest. Every one of his senses remained fully tuned as every crushing twig, every distant chirp, every breath; his own, and those he knew not to be, swirled in his brain._

_The adrenaline coursed through his body like venomous stings, razor sharp and fully intent on completing its purpose; that being to get him as far away as possible._

_The speed, he'd yet to get used to it. It was unreal. _

_**Threat…threat…**_

_The only words that managed to filter through his brain. _

_His head swung behind him when an earsplitting growl echoed in the distance. _

_**Threat…threat…**_

_It was nearing. _

_Another thunderous growl had his innards pulsing viciously. He knew he should keep running, but a part of him -the one he failed to understand- believed otherwise. _

_A slow snarl escaped his parted mouth, his teeth already bared. The pointed fangs made an early appearance, their keen-edged sharpness clawed at the bottom rimming of his lower jaw. _

_His hind legs came to a screeching halt, causing his body to slide a few small inches forward before coming to a complete stop. _

_His frontal paws scratched at the top of the hard ground, pushing some of its dust to rally around him. _

_His heavy breaths seemed to form a thin mist before his mouth. His claws dug viciously onto the dirt. _

_The footstep's sound augmented; their nearing, inevitable. _

_**It's here…**_

_Feeling a large lump begin to form in his throat, he quickly let loose, allowing the gruesome growl that had been searing in his throat to finally break free._

oooooooooo

His eyes drew open slightly, trembling from the unsought movement. Everything was blurred. The pure obsidian making him question whether he'd finally gone blind. No. It was night now, he remembered. If not, then…

With painstakingly slow movements, he began to curl his fingers one by one until he was sure he'd managed to provide movement to each.

_They're still here_. He thought, allowing a small relieved sigh to escape his lips.

_Where am I?_

He found himself unable to move a muscle. His limbs felt inexplicably weighted, as though they bared the weight of twenty tons of steel.

He was aware of his immobility, but he felt as though he were moving. He pressed his arms tighter against his body upon noticing the feel of arms gripping him tightly.

_What is this?_

"Ichigo, what happened with this one?"

_Ichigo?_

"I dunno…he was just… I really don't know dad…"

"Strange thing, this is. Strange thing."

The disembodied voices continued; voices unknown to him.

He slowly felt his consciousness drifting.

Darkness took reign once more.

oooooooooo

He felt their eyes staring out at him, burning into his flesh with their scrutiny, but he didn't care.

His hands gripped onto the small vase for dear life, nails clawing into its surface in fright over having it miraculously disappear, as the cool liquid slid down his throat with unprecedented speed.

_Not enough._

He slammed the porcelain back atop the table that creaked upon him doing so. His mouth gasped for air, heart thumping in his throat.

_More. _

He didn't have to say anything before the container was being refilled once again, and like before, in a matter of sheer seconds, his lips were downing the heavenly liquid.

"Hey boy what's your name?"

_Boy?_ He scoffed inwardly at the word. Had it not been for his current situation he'd have easily chewed the man out in a barrel of insults. But this wasn't the time. Recuperation, that was all that mattered.

How long had it been since his last _real_ meal? He didn't remember. But oh god how he missed it. The succulent flavors he'd been so terribly deprived of. But his hunger, it seemed insatiable. He knew he must have been behaving like a ravenous animal, but he was fine with it, it suited him.

"What happened to you out there?"

"Oi, Ichigo, is he mute or somethin'"

The questions continued pouring, their eyes continued burning into him, but his lips refused to utter even the slightest of sounds. Could he dare admit it was fright? He would not, could not.

But the eyes, they did frighten him, as those were the eyes he had now become used to demonstrating only contempt, fright, and hatred towards him. These eyes weren't the same, but they would turn on him soon. He had to hurry, he knew that much, if he knew anything at all.

"Just seems hungry to me. Right, Ichi-ni?"

"Ichigo, ask 'em something. Maybe he'll speak to ya,"

Everything remained a blur. The words, their voices, their questions, he couldn't figure them out even if he'd wanted to; which in all honest truths he didn't. Speaking was the last of his interests. He had to make use of the time allotted, of the opportunity given. He had a limited amount of time before…

He couldn't bear the thought.

And so he ate, quietly, in the blankness that had now become him.

The few pitiful times he allowed his eyes to make contact had been with the boy. The one who, dare he admit it, saved his life, or better yet, what little there was left of it.

_Ichigo, was it?_

The merciful hazelnut eyes remained fixated on him, but this scrutiny was different from all the others, curious, but kind. How long had it been since he last saw eyes like those? Kindness though there should not have been any. They were unlike any he'd ever seen, though he never quite deserved them.

But he hoped that, as his eyes met him for the short amount of time they did, he would see the gratitude in his gaze. The one his words would be unable to provide.

oooooooooo

He didn't how long he had been out, or when exactly he had been engulfed by sleep. But it had overtaken him easily. Now his eyes finally pulled free from the weighted sleep, opening painstakingly slow, still clearly fighting against his overbearing urge to secede back to his prior dormancy.

Upon having fully opened his eyes, he felt his heart rise to his throat.

'_Where am I?'_ he thought in panic, eyes darting in a frenzy of directions and being unable to make out anything with the slightest of familiarity.

His hands began to pat his surroundings as he realized he had been laying on something unusually soft. There was no way this was the ground, unless it had managed to somehow become inexplicably comforting overnight.

'_Linen?'_

A thin blanket was wrapped around him; beneath it he could already feel an extra layer of material. His body was no longer nude.

Panic began swelling in him, his confusion beginning to get the best of him, before his eyes automatically halted once they fell on something specific.

Across from him, with the help of a small candle lighted atop a drawer beside the bed he was on, he saw a boy drooped over a small seat.

Even in the limited amount of lighting, he was able to make out a head of fiery russet locks.

His memory quickly flooded back to him, hitting him full force and almost managing to knock him back down onto the bed.

Deliberately, he pressed his arms against the mattress, allowing his body to slowly rise onto a sitting position. After fully situation himself properly, his hands rose up to his face and he watched intently as he clenched and unclenched his fists. His body felt better than it had in quite some time.

"Nn…"

His eyes darted towards the form that was now moving idly. The male sitting beside his bed now rested his head onto the chairs armrests, his position appearing to be rather uncomfortable, yet he remained sound asleep. His breathes and the few minimal voicing's he managed to make in his sleep, the only sound filling the room.

His name was Ichigo, he remembered that, the one who had helped him.

He was a pretty strange looking male. Those flamed orange locks were unlike anything he'd seen.

As he watched him shift uncomfortably he couldn't help but wonder if he had taken his bed. He had to admit, it was loads better than what he'd been forced to endure during his recent nights of restless sleep.

The thought roused his innards. His eyes widened quickly, grey orbs darting around him aimlessly before coming to the window that lay open slightly before him, allowing a small soothing breeze to slip through.

The time, what was it?

The previous panic once more felt free to inhabit him. With little thought, his body had already sprouted in motion, dragging him out of bed and almost managing to send him tumbling forward.

His hands spread out before him to allow his balance to return.

The few sprits of orange undertones detailing the sky now a deep shade of blue, indicated sunrise was soon approaching. If that was so, he knew he had to get out as soon as possible.

Gritting his teeth forcefully, he allowed his mind to enter a deep burrow of self-loathing. There was nothing else for him to do. But maybe that was its purpose. No, not maybe, he knew it was.

This inevitable occurrence, it was testing every bit of resolve he had left in him, which now wasn't much. He may as well have been sentenced to death; sometimes this thought seemed much more welcoming. But his wishes weren't something that would be granted. He would be made to suffer for the deed committed.

He had to go. This wasn't the time to dwell in his hateful meanderings.

Slowly, carefully as to not wake the slumbering male, he made his way towards the bedroom door. His hands gripped onto the door's knob, it's cool touch providing a small jolt that woke him further, something he was in desperate need of, before he easily pulled it open. He cringed visibly, when the door made an audible creak.

Looking back behind him, he held in a sigh of relief as the noise went by seemingly unnoticed.

After managing to finally fully exit the bedroom he made his way past a small hallway he was sure led towards the exit.

The wooden floorboards creaked beneath his feet. Every sound felt augmented by the deafening silence.

Feeling a strange sensation wreck havoc inside his gut, the male groaned lowly, his head pressing itself against the wooden wall.

It was starting again.

His fists clenched tightly, enough to turn his knuckles pale. His insides became crowded by the desperation that always overtook him during these times.

Practically dragging himself out towards the large open doorway at the end of the hallway, the male stopped once again as another surge of the strange sensation swelled through him, causing his skin to become lidded in goose bumps.

His feet picked up pace, his eyes cautiously eyeing every inch of the residence.

"I can't waste time. Not now." He finally managed to croak silently, his voice was brittle and weak, nothing like he remembered it once being. A specific image flashed through his mind at the moment, the shotguns that had been decorating a small table inside the kitchen. He figured they must've been hunters. If that was the case, it only served to heighten his urgency at getting out of the place.

His vision flashed, the images around him blurring and becoming distorted with each spasm.

No longer concerned with any noises he might make, he bolted towards a small door by the living room area.

His body trembled; there was no longer time to waste. Distance, he needed it.

His hands searched blindly for the doorknob and pried the door open upon doing so. A wave of dizziness struck him suddenly, jolting his knees and causing him to stumble to the ground.

A small snarl escaped his lips and his hand pounded onto the floor.

Gripping the door knob open once more, he clumsily managed to rise to his feet.

The morning sun's rays were becoming visible from the tree-lined horizon. Relief filled the small part of his brain not yet overcome by the mentally flustering commotion.

The sound of footsteps reached his ears; a voice was heard alongside it. He quickly bolted out of the home. His vision was now almost completely non-existent, but he refused to cease in his movements. Every bit of energy he had recuperated during his stay was now put in full use as he, with every bit of his might, barreled out into the open air.


End file.
